nemy when _un Anglais_ comes
against me; if you are ever in the number, I shall expect
nothing worse."

"It will be my duty, Captain Yvard, to report to Captain Cuffe where I
found the Folly, where I left her, and where I think she is steering.
Even your armament, crew, and all such little particulars, I shall be
questioned on; I must answer honestly."

"_Mon cher_, you are 'honest fellow,' as you Anglais say. I wish it was
noonday, that you might better see our deck--le Feu-Follet is not ugly,
that she should wish to wear a veil. Tell everything, Clinch, _mon
brave_; if Monsieur Cuffe wish to send another party against our lugger,
come in the first boat _en personne_. We shall always be happy to see
Monsieur Clinch. As for where we steer, you see out head is toward _la
belle France_; and there is plenty of room for a long chase. _Adieu, mon
ami_--_au revoir_."

Clinch now shook hands heartily with all the officers; again expressed
his sense of the liberality with which he was treated, and this, too,
with emotion; then he followed his people into the boat, and pulled away
from the lugger's side, holding his course toward the light which was
still burning on board the Proserpine. At the same time le Feu-Follet
filled, and soon disappeared from his eyes in the darkness, running off
wing-and-wing, and steering west, as if really making the best of her
way toward the Straits of Bonifacio, on her road to France.

But, in fact, Raoul had no such intention. His cruise was not up, and
his present position, surrounded as he was with enemies, was full of
attraction to one of his temperament. Only the day before he had
appeared in the disguise of a lazzarone, he had captured, manned, and
sent to Marseilles a valuable store-ship; and he knew that another was
hourly expected in the bay. This was an excuse to his people for
remaining where they were, But the excitement of constantly running the
gauntlet, the pleasure of demonstrating the superior sailing of his
lugger, the opportunities for distinction, and every other professional
motive, were trifling, as compared with the tie which bound him to, the
feeling that unceasingly attracted him toward Ghita. With his love,
also, there began to mingle a sensation approaching to despair. While
Ghita was so gentle, and even tender, with him, he had ever found her
consistent and singularly firm in her principles. In their recent
dialogues, some that we hare forborne to relate on account